


After Time

by Workparty



Series: Writer's Block Projects [2]
Category: Danny Phantom
Genre: Alternate Universes, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Danny dies a few times, Dark Comedy, Gen, Ghosts are terrible people, Happy Ending, Or maybe "Dannys Fenton", Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-20
Updated: 2021-03-20
Packaged: 2021-03-28 23:40:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30147390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Workparty/pseuds/Workparty
Summary: What use could Clockwork have for a monster at the end of the universe? Dan may not know, but he's sure he won't like it.Content warning: Cosmology, graphic violence, pretentious ghosts philosophizing
Relationships: Clockwork & Dan Phantom
Series: Writer's Block Projects [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2218902
Comments: 6
Kudos: 15





	1. Epilogue

**Author's Note:**

> This has been my writer's block project for much of the last month. It's composed of 6 very short chapters, so I will be presenting it largely free of commentary. In spite of that summary I'd actually classify this as a comedy, but I have a weird sense of humor so YMMV.

The ball of fire hung suspended in the blackness. It looked as it had always looked; a deep, deep red, as dim and menacing as an exit sign.

A ghost weaved his way between the whip-like tendrils of heated gases that it spun into space. Every part of it was straining against gravity, desperately pushing outward from its core. Its final breaths.

It was inevitable.

The ghost took a moment to watch it fondly. He was 5 minutes early, as was his habit, even with a trip as long as this one had been. There was really no need for it given the circumstances. He was so very rarely surprised by now, but all the same, the timing was important. And in busier times, being early tended to make for a positive impression.

These were not busy times.

This was his last appointment. It always had been.

Clockwork consulted a wristwatch, again as was his habit, even though he always knew when it was. Another tic from the category of social niceties. Appearing too prescient could make some sentient lifeforms nervous.

The seconds ticked down.

5\. 4. 3, 2, 1.

He unclipped a Fenton Thermos from his belt, opened it, and created a shield of ghostly energy just as the green blast of ectoplasm would have hit him.

Dan Phantom seethed with rage from the other side, already charging another blast. He attempted to yell something at Clockwork, the sound lost immediately to the void of space around them, the air particles he had expelled ferried up and away by the faint stellar winds of the star below them. Some of the fire turned to surprise when he didn't hear his words, and some of the surprised turned to panic as he gasped for a breath he couldn't take. Red eyes darted around, finally taking in exactly where he was; and in his panic, he flew off away from Clockwork, who crossed his arms and waited.

3.7 days passed in a flash, and Dan came back.

He was hesitant to get too close to Clockwork, perhaps understandably so, but that wouldn't make what was about to happen any easier. Anger and betrayal, the constant fixtures on Dan's expression, were still present of course, but they were joined by unease. Clockwork raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms disapprovingly, still waiting. After a further 0.002 days, Dan finally buckled and approached close enough that they could have reached out and touched each other.

Clockwork summoned another shield of ghostly energy, enveloping the two of them in a tightly confined bubble, and opened the canister of compressed oxygen at his side.

Dan took one measured inhale as the air filled the space. Sensing it wasn't poisoned or some kind of trick, he took a few more breaths before falling into an easy rhythm. It struck Clockwork as funny, the few signs of humanity Dan had kept. Even after all this time. Eventually, he asked the question Clockwork knew he would.

"Where are we?"

"I can't tell you that."

"Why not?" he asked, gritting his teeth.

"This star has no meaningful name in any language I could use."

"Why are we here? How long did you keep me in there?" But of course, he knew the answer.

Clockwork knew that Dan knew the answer, because Danny would have known the answer. That was the funny old thing about his past selves. He could run, but he could never really get away from it. Not if Clockwork had his say.

And Clockwork always did.

"You've had a few days to think about it."

Dan was silent for a long moment, staring distrustfully at Clockwork, looking for any sign of deceit. For his part, Clockwork was as impassive as ever, until finally Dan gave up and managed to point out the obvious. "There are no other stars in the sky."

"No, there aren't," he agreed.

" _How long has it been?_ "

"Approximately 12 trillion years. This star was never named because no humans were alive to see its light. By a chance of fate, it orbited very close to a supermassive, galactic black hole, which dilated the effects of time, the gravity alone keeping it young for trillions of years. A chance collision between two galaxies kicked it out into the far reaches of space. Of the billions and billions of galaxies, this only happened four times in the whole of the universe, and this was the last one. This is the last surviving star."

Below them, the roiling surface of the star bubbled and dimmed further. Dark spots formed that began collapsing inward, rushing down at speeds that seemed almost impossible given the scale of the object; the whole surface puckered and pulled in on itself as it collapsed, growing slowly brighter and brighter until it was glowing white-hot and the collapse abruptly stopped.

"And now, it's over. What's left of it will sit here cooling down for perhaps a few billion years yet. But this is the end of the age of stars."

Dan was shaking. With what, Clockwork never knew, but it was hardly important. "Why have you done this?"

"I thought you might want to see it. You used to enjoy astronomy, didn't you?"

The next expression was unambiguous 'spite'. "You should have just left me in the thermos."

Clockwork smiled. "I just might. But first, I need a favor from you." At Dan's confusion, Clockwork reactivated the Thermos, pulling the ghost inside.

And then he dropped his shield and began the long journey back to the ghost zone.


	2. After Time

The light came rushing up to meet him. It was thoroughly unexpected, although Clockwork _had_ indicated that was the plan.

Dan spun on the spot and fired a bolt at the still-falling thermos, obliterating it, although it was no longer being held by anyone for him to injure. It was only then that he realized where they were. Where he was, more accurately, since the room appeared to be empty now aside from himself.

The ticking was immense.

Why anyone, even one named Clockwork, should indulge in so many gears would be forever lost on him. It caused an almost constant racket, something always clacking against something else above the incessant tick-tick. It reminded Dan briefly of a visit to a jewelry store at the top of the hour. A very long time ago.

A lifetime ago.

He didn't especially know what he was meant to do in here. Attacking Clockwork had already failed, of course, but what exactly was he supposed to do now? Escape? Not only had the time ghost probably made several infuriating plans for that, but there was also hardly anywhere he could go. The universe had ended. He'd just seen that. It was a sick joke, probably intended as penance for his actions, but he found it hard to regret any of them. And besides, the punishment seemed to outstrip the crime. He'd taken out his anger on some humans. Clockwork had stolen 12 trillion years from him.

It wasn't worth dwelling on. Add it to the list of inconsequential things he'd lost. For now, he would see what the time ghost expected him to do, and then refuse to do it. Simple.

He knew about Clockwork's Tower by reputation only. Although he'd only seen it from afar, this seemed to be a side room, perhaps 20 feet on a side and 50 tall. Looking up made him feel a bit like a mouse at the bottom of a grandfather clock. Either way, the room had no obvious purpose, aside from containing the wreck of a thermos and a single door to enter and leave by. Dan opened it cautiously and the ticking grew in volume.

He couldn't have expected what he saw on the other side.

Clockwork was sitting quite comfortably in a wingback armchair, set across an ottoman from an identical chair. The room was just as tall as the one he'd left, but it stretched on into the distance far past his ability to see the boundary of it. Bookcases blocked most of the view anyway, and from what he could see of them it looked like they probably filled the room, in a clearly haphazard and possibly labyrinthine way.

Dan lingered there a moment, taking in the sight. Clockwork appeared to be reading, although he made it clear he wasn't entirely absorbed in the text when he gestured toward the empty chair.

He stood next to the chair, pointedly not sitting down. There was no sense in attacking now. When the bloodlust faded, it was clear that any attack would be quite easily countered.

It was _very_ tempting though. Clockwork still hadn't said anything, and Dan was starting to become bored. The minutes stretched on, until, the second before he was about to ask what the hell was going on, Clockwork finally flipped over the last page of his cheap paperback and threw it down onto the ottoman.

 _The Great Gatsby_. Property of the Casper High Library.

"I have a job for you."

Dan looked at Clockwork in pure confusion. The ghost sat there expectantly, fingers steepled, elbows spread on the armrests.

"What could you possibly need me to do when the universe ended?"

"Why should that matter?"

He had his head cocked to one side as if the answer was obvious.

"There's nothing _to_ _do_ , unless your grand plan for revenge involves me organizing your books."

"Isn't there?"

"Please cut to the part where you tell me what I want to know, I really don't have time for this."

"Of course you have time. Time is the key."

"You," Dan seethed, "are infuriating to speak to."

"So I've been told. But really now, you haven't forgotten your cosmology, have you? Or were you the one who never did a deep dive into the physics? I never can remember."

He frowned at that. "How many alternate timeline versions of me are there, exactly?"

Clockwork nodded as if there had been a misunderstanding. "I see the problem." He had all along, of course, and they both knew that he knew that. Dan felt a very powerful urge to attack him again. "You've missed a few years."

"12 trillion years, you said so yourself."

"No, not those." Clockwork paused to scratch his nose. "There have been a few more years since then."

"...how many?"

"I'm afraid I can't tell you directly, it's far beyond easy comprehension. Imagine being told you needed to write a 1 followed by a zero for every atom in the universe. Then imagine doing that again and again until the number of times you do it has to be described with a phrase like 'for every atom in the universe'. It's been roughly 8-times-10-to-the-power-of _that number_ , years."

8 to the 10th power of the 10th power of... But, "That's ludicrous! How could you survive that? Wouldn't..." It's true, he'd never gotten very far into the real physics of the universe. After a certain point, he'd stopped caring. "Even if you weren't destroyed by time, wouldn't you have gone insane?"

Clockwork looked at him skeptically. "How could time possibly hope to destroy me? I control it. I simply decreased my own perception of its passage and those years went by in about three hours, as I observed them. I spent them reading," he added, gesturing to the book.

" _Why?_ " Unasked but implied within that was the question of whether or not Clockwork had already gone insane.

He received a shrug in response. "I couldn't speculate why. In truth, physics bores me. But that is how long the universe takes to create another one of itself after the last one falls apart."

"You don't mean—"

"I do. And, since you asked, what I need you to do is to help Danny Fenton."

* * *

Dan waited for some sign that what he'd just heard had been a joke.

Clockwork gave him none, instead sitting in his chair staring at him, waiting for Dan to reply.

"You _have_ gone insane."

The time ghost morphed into a younger version of himself. He was suddenly swimming in the overlarge chair. It would have looked pathetic, if Dan wasn't still recovering from surviving the end of the universe. "Not at all. I'm sure you recall the experience that Danny had in his early days as a half-ghost. You will be guiding him through his new life. Act as a shoulder to lean on. A mentor, perhaps."

He was serious, wasn't he? "And it's all really out there? The universe as I knew it?"

Clockwork shrugged. "More or less."

"And I suppose I have no choice in the matter?"

"None at all." The ghost smiled, revealing tiny fangs. The threat being posed was far from physical, however, and Dan knew it.

Very well. There was more than one way to handle this. He would go along with the time master's game long enough to assure his eventual revenge. Once he was free of the other's sight, there would be little stopping him from resuming where he had left off. The first 10 years of his efforts would need to be redone, of course. But in truth, he had most relished the very earliest days. When his wrath was new, and few were ready for it.

Dan smiled in what he assumed was a genial manner (he was out of practice). "Then I suppose I shall begin immediately."

"Yes, I suppose you shall." Clockwork stood up from the chair, swapping to his elder form as he did so. He spun his staff, forming a portal into the human world; Amity Park, as Dan hadn't seen it in years.

Without a further word, he stepped through, ducking to invisibility as he went.

The change in the air was immediate. As the portal closed behind him, the ticking cut off abruptly, replaced with the sounds of distant traffic and the birdsong of Danny's childhood street. Dan squinted against the glare of the sun, taking it all in. It was still high in the sky. Probably no later than 2 or perhaps 3 in the afternoon. Most likely a weekend, then, if he was indeed meant to find Danny here. At this hour the street was nearly abandoned. Dimly he recalled that even back when humans drove private vehicles, Concord Street never received much traffic.

Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Sam and Tucker walking along the opposite sidewalk. Dan hid behind a car in front of the old Fentonworks building, before feeling slightly foolish. He was already entirely invisible. But at that moment it struck him that he didn't particularly want to see them, either; let them be faceless casualties at a later date, perhaps.

Anyway, his attempts at killing them up close and personal hadn't worked out for him.

Behind and high above him, he heard a window open. A voice rang out. A voice he hadn't heard in... Well, an incomprehensible amount of time, but less than a week as he'd experienced it.

"Hey, guys! I'll be right down."

The window slammed shut and Dan's core _thrilled_. Danny was about to run out the front door.

Danny got as far as exchanging shouted greetings with his friends across the street before Dan was on top of him. He never had a chance to notice his ghost sense.

He gripped the young halfa by a shoulder, dropping back to visibility. He let the fear flicker over Danny's features for a brief moment, committing it to memory, savoring it. And then Dan plunged a hand intangibly into his chest and tore his heart out. Horror turned to shock and then back to horror as the body fell.

A heavy truck suddenly rushing by at several times the speed limit drowned out the noise of the thermos firing.


	3. Time After

The light came rushing up to meet him. He definitely hadn't expected that. He hadn't even expected to be caught this time, but here he was, back among the incessant ticking.

Dan spun on the spot and fired a bolt at the still-falling thermos, obliterating it. It clattered to the ground in a heap, as it did last time. Nobody had been obviously holding it. In a fury, he stormed out the door and found the middle-aged (or perhaps moderately-aged) version of Clockwork sitting comfortably in his chair, as he had last time. When he got to the empty chair, he kicked it, sending it flying into a nearby bookshelf.

"What is the meaning of this, Clockwork?" he demanded, although that did little to distract the other ghost from his reading. _Flowers for Algernon_. Property of the Casper High Library. Clockwork flipped over the last page, and then looked up to face him.

"Did you honestly think I wouldn't know what you intended to do?"

"It hardly matters what you knew," Dan sneered, "I _succeeded_. Danny Fenton is dead."

"No."

"No? How could he have survived it?"

"Oh, he didn't, and certainly _that_ Danny Fenton is dead. He was, however, about to be hit by a truck speeding at... What was that human measurement? 60 miles per hour, I believe," Clockwork droned on, as Dan looked at him in frank outrage, "killing him instantly upon impact. So you see, your actions hardly mattered."

"Do you not care if he lives or dies?"

"They all die, don't they? Danny Fenton isn't so important that the whole of the universe needed him around for an extra 40 years."

"But Amity Park—"

"The earth turns without it."

"But—"

"You are oddly defensive of things you have attempted to scour off the face of the earth in the past."

Dan took that as an insult, but wouldn't show it. He collected himself and then asked his burning question, "but why aren't you?"

"It's quite simple. I knew you would attempt to kill the first Danny Fenton, and I knew you would succeed, so I set you up against one who was going to die anyway."

"And you knew this how?"

"It's quite simple, really," Clockwork said patiently. "When you have witnessed as many millions of iterations of the known universe as I have, certain patterns stand out as clear as day. Some are more frequent than others. Perhaps a few dozen occur at least once per hundred. But there have really only been about 6,600 truly unique versions of the universe."

He was left quite speechless, but Clockwork was undeterred.

"For instance, I know that you will eventually wonder how often you exist. Your predecessors always want to know that when we have this conversation."

"My _what_?"

"You didn't expect you were the first, did you?"

"The first _what_ _?_ "

"The first fusion of Plasmius with Phantom."

"When else could it have occurred? Danny Fenton and Vlad Masters only lived one lifetime!"

Clockwork chuckled and Dan growled. If the Time Master truly considered himself superior for his parlor tricks, Dan would be only too happy to tear his throat out to set the record straight. "You still speak in such limited terms. And to think you grew from such intelligent minds! A fusion resulting in a ghost like yourself occurs every 23 universes on average. Once it took as long as 89. Actually, once you occurred in back-to-back universes, which left me with a spare Dan. His thermos may still be on a shelf somewhere, actually..." Clockwork spared a glance to the chaos of bookshelves taking up the majority of the room.

Dan was silent for a very long time. Clockwork didn't move at all, until Dan suspected that he was likely speeding through the silence.

"What do you intend to do now?"

"It's quite simple. I need you to help Danny Fenton. Now, can I trust you to do it properly this time?"

No. "Yes." Dan was going to properly kill the child, once and for all. "I will do my best."

* * *

It was clear that time had passed. It was dark. The cars on the street were different. Some of the houses were even different colors.

Had the last visit to this street been different than it had been in his own timeline? Dan hadn't really paid attention.

Concord Street was similar enough to be recognizable, though. Still covered in potholes, the houses still on the wrong side of ascent and decline, the sidewalks still cracked and buckling in places. He could even pick out the bump that had thrown Danny over the handlebars of his bike in 7th grade. Was that two or twelve years ago? Two universes ago?

(More?)

It was impossible to know. Maybe this version of Danny had worn a helmet. Maybe he'd never gotten on the bike.

Dan frowned. It was no use worrying about. Whether fate had conspired against this Danny Fenton or not, he would happily fill in the gaps.

Clockwork had said this was meant to be about teaching Danny how to be a half-ghost. If it was shortly after the accident, that meant at this late hour, Danny would probably be dutifully in his bed; this was early when he still cared to listen to parental authority, as Dan recalled. That would make this easy if nothing else.

The Fenton household kept very few secrets. No sooner had Dan entered than he could hear the ongoing work from the basement. Maddie and Jack were causing a racket.

A smile crept onto his face. It would mask the sound.

He floated up the stairs and through into Danny's childhood bedroom. Dan locked the door after phasing through it, before staring at the space around him.

And it was a _lot_ of space. He'd forgotten about the glow in the dark stars on the ceiling. The scale models of the Saturn IB and Saturn V rockets stood side-by-side on the bookshelf. The Space Shuttle Discovery hung from a string in the corner above his desk, taking pride of place of course, although it looked odd. Dan walked over to examine it, taking it in one hand. It had an outdated NASA logo, and turning it over, it seemed to be called the "Endurance". Strange.

A whimper from the bed brought him back to the present moment, and what he was here for.

"Hello, Daniel."

The duvet shifted, and a pair of light blue eyes met his own from under an unruly fringe of red hair.

The malicious grin faded from the ghost, replaced with confusion. Was this actually Danny? "Did you dye your hair that color, or is that natural?"

"Who... Who are you?!"

Oh, but he couldn't very well pass up an opportunity to be dramatic. The malicious grin was back like it had never left.

"I, Daniel, am your future."

The blue eyes widened, but his speech remained muted by the duvet in front of half his face. "Are you a ghost?"

He summoned a powerful ectoblast in one hand, casting green light across the room and putting the shadows in sharp relief. "The most powerful that has ever lived."

Danny pulled the duvet down to speak, but his reply was cut off by the snap of his transformation rings. The teen yelped in pain as they attempted to split and drag outward, but with visible effort, they were pulled back inside and disappeared. He was left breathing heavily, sweat beading on his forehead.

Dan frowned. "What's wrong with you?"

Danny almost laughed, almost cried. "I guess it's true. If I'm a ghost in my future... I'm about to die, aren't I?"

Did he think he was going to die? Seriously?

That made killing him a lot less fun.

"No," Dan began, "you're only half a ghost. Haven't you seen your ghost form already?"

"My... Ghost form? What? I haven't died yet!"

Danny sat up in the bed, sending the bedding tumbling to the ground. He ran a shaky hand through his hair. He looked pathetic, panicking in his pajamas.

It wasn't befitting one-half of the most powerful ghost ever created.

"You misunderstand. You are both alive and dead. You could survive many years in that form, with all the powers of a ghost, while maintaining your living form."

"Oh." Danny shifted again, uneasily. "Can you turn human?"

Dan chuckled. He let his own transformation wash over him; a tricky illusion to maintain. His human half had attempted to expunge him, after all, but soon the 15-year-old Danny Fenton looked back at himself lying in bed.

Well, almost himself.

"Oh, wow." Danny blinked, scooting closer on the bed. Dan walked closer to allow him a better view. "I look cool with black hair! Is that a ghost thing?"

"Um—"

The rings jumped into existence again and the boy in the bed fell down into the fetal position with a startled yelp. Dan caught the barest glimpse of a black and green jumpsuit before his past (future?) self reigned them in again.

"You shouldn't fight it. Your body is trying to transform into your ghost form. In time, you will learn to control it."

Danny was in tears, his breath still shaky. "Does it always hurt?"

"Less with time."

"That..." Dan saw a full-body shiver run down the boy's back, his arms making a strange jerking motion. "That doesn't help me now though."

"No," he conceded, taking a seat on the side of the bed. "But some day you'll realize it's worth the pain. It's unlike anything within the limits of human experience. The power to give and take life on a whim. To remake the world in your image. Anything you want in the palm of your hand."

Danny shivered again, but possibly not from the pain this time. His eyes, which had been clenched shut, opened cautiously. "Right now the idea of causing more pain doesn't really appeal."

Dan snorted. The teen looked at him more questioningly, without really turning to face him.

"...Why would you want people to suffer?"

He had no answer for that. No good answer, anyway.

The transformative rings snapped back into position. Dan laid a hand on Danny's shoulder.

"You don't need to do what I did. That's what this is, Danny. It's freedom," he whispered.

"I can't," Danny cried. "It hurts, it hurts so much!"

"You'll be able to fly. Go anywhere, see anything. You could go to space or cross the globe." He gave the shoulder a squeeze as the rings wavered. "It's not just power. It's _everything_."

Danny managed to turn to face him. His arms were clenched firmly against his sides and his face was caught in a horrible grimace. "How? How do I make this stop?"

Dan smiled. "Reach out and take it." He reversed his illusory transformation, reverting to his true form. "It's as simple as walking out the door."

Danny closed his eyes and nodded, breathing in short puffing breaths. Soon, the ring surged back outward, splitting in two.

"That's right, you've got it now!"

The rings passed up and down over him slowly, reaching his chest and calves.

"You've almost got it, just a bit more," Dan said encouragingly. A squeeze on the shoulder somehow felt insufficient.

Danny was shaking. "I can't, I can't, it's too—" He choked on the words and arched his back straight off the bed.

"Come on, I know you can do this! I did it every day. Dozens of times," Dan said. It had never been this difficult for him, had it?

Actually, when he had been Danny, he'd never had that much green on his jumpsuit. Was it spreading?

Danny started screaming. A drop of ectoplasm hit the mattress. If Dan had a heart, it would have skipped a beat. The rings wavered and collapsed inward into Danny's body, leaving him half transformed, but looking distinctly... Loose.

The fabric of the jumpsuit dissolved into bubbling, roiling ectoplasm. Gobs dropped away from his body until the screams abruptly stopped, and the legs and torso dropped back to the bed.

The shoulder under his hand went limp, and the eyes followed him as he scrambled back from the bed until he hit the opposite wall.

"You really are pointlessly cruel."

Dan whipped around to face Clockwork, firing an ectoblast at him that the time master had to summon a shield to avoid.

"What did you _do_?!"

The elder ghost narrowed his eyes at Dan. "What I _did_ was attempt to spare young Danny from a horrible death. I had naively hoped that you would make it quick and painless, but since you were content to leave him to his fate..."

"How was I supposed to anticipate this? I never melted into a puddle! Or, Danny never melted into a puddle! Only Danielle, but she—"

"So it was unintentional?" He had the audacity to look surprised.

Dan sputtered. "Why would I have planned to do _this_?"

Clockwork quirked an eyebrow. "Forgive me for assuming you might want to kill Danny Fenton. For a third time, might I add. But truly, you picked a terrible time to grow a conscience. The fallout will be yours to deal with."

Dan couldn't describe how much he hated Clockwork at that moment. He couldn't have put it in words if he as many words as there were atoms in the universe, settling instead for a withering glare.

But the other seemed unphased.

"Come now." Clockwork summoned a portal with his time staff and gestured for him to pass through. "We begin immediately."


	4. After Time After

Dan kicked in the door of Clockwork's study. Clockwork, standing just on the other side of the entrance, didn't have the decency to look surprised, even when it must have swung within an inch of his nose.

"Daniel," he said, frustratingly calmly.

"I got the shade." He hefted up the lump under his right arm, being carried like a squirming sack of flour.

What remained of Danny Fenton was about 5 feet and 3 inches of smoke, nearly formless, lacking arms, legs, or really any other discernible extruding features. The only way to know which side was "up" were the beady pits of eyes on one end, and its tendency to float upright if you didn't knock it over for five minutes at a time.

"Hope it was worth it." Dan threw the shade into the room. It continued with the momentum, making no effort to stop itself until it bumped into a bookcase. "Can I go now?"

"It's curious that you chose to spare his life," Clockwork noted, not answering the question. "In the past, your predecessors have always chosen the kill at least the first two Danny Fentons they encounter before making peace with the reality that I can predict their actions."

"Fascinating. I'm leaving." Dan turned on a heel to do so, but Clockwork's next words froze him mid-stride.

"But I did not predict this."

Dan smirked. "Then you aren't infallible after all, time master."

"No," he agreed carefully, "but I never claimed to be. Only that I usually am not. Mine is a long game, with long odds, and I am not often surprised."

"Well, I'm happy to have temporarily brought you back down to earth. Goodbye."

He turned to leave again, and then Clockwork was very suddenly in front of him. "What makes you different, Daniel?" The blank red eyes were scrutinizing him. It was uncomfortable, and not just because it was sudden. "I wonder..."

Dan remained silent. For the first few seconds, anyway. Then he crossed his arms and stared at the time ghost. The silence stretched into minutes before he remembered that Clockwork was indeed a _time ghost_ and was probably not going to get bored nearly as quickly as he would. He sighed. "What do you—"

"Would you do it again?" Clockwork interrupted.

"Do what again?"

"Would you let Danny Fenton die that painful death?"

"No, I wouldn't play your ridiculous game a second time. I would crush his skull beneath my fist and laugh as I burned his corpse and scattered the ashes across the town. Is that the answer you're looking for?"

"Interesting," Clockwork said simply.

"You are a sick mind," which was only partly a compliment.

"It's interesting because that is both the answer you would typically give, but also, your actions have been atypical. You're directly contradicting your own past actions, rather than standing by them. You're saying you would have acted differently if given a second chance. That's interesting."

He narrowed his eyes at the other. "How _dare_ you imply what I think you're implying."

"It's impossible to speculate, of course—"

"You're going to anyway," Dan pointed out.

"—but your words and actions raise the possibility of a... Inequitable mind share between Phantom and Plasmius. You may be somewhat unique after all."

"How charming."

"Not entirely. You're the first version of yourself who chose not to kill Danny Fenton, which makes you more of a moral actor than you have been in the past."

"I wonder, is it worth trying to leave again, or will you keep popping up in front of me...?"

"However," Clockwork said, popping up in front of Dan after he tried to leave again, "you are therefore the first version of yourself who let Danny Fenton needlessly suffer as he did. So, from a certain perspective, you are more morally upright. But in terms of outcome, you've increased the net suffering in the universe, and are therefore an objectively worse person. And you've admitted that you regret that."

"A sick, twisted mind." It was no longer a compliment at all. "I have razed continents and would happily do so again, given the chance. Don't confuse me for Danny Phantom over there." He gestured to the shade, which had righted itself and was now bumping into the bookshelf across the room. "Your little 'project'."

"Of course not. As I said, you're the worst version of yourself."

"And that's the other thing, how _dare_ you judge me for his suffering!" Dan shouted, "you've been complicit in all of it throughout time! My actions—"

"Inaction," corrected Clockwork.

"—simply pales in comparison to the blood on your hands!"

"Ah, but that's why I have you. He rarely has to suffer, and your past selves get a moment of catharsis. It's a net positive for the universe."

"I am hardly interested in a utilitarian argument, when—"

Dan's rant was cut short by the crash of wood and books tumbling to the floor. Both the ghosts turned to the shade, who had successfully bumped into the bookshelf hard enough that it had fallen over, spilling its contents. It floated onto the wreckage and turned to face them, blank eyes staring.

"On the note of being useful," Clockwork began, "I am assigning the care of this shade to you, until he can maintain a more stable form."

"To _me?_ " Dan checked for any sign he was joking and found none. "Why on earth should I do it?"

"You understand Danny Fenton better than anyone alive, I hardly see why anybody else should be better equipped. And besides," Dan didn't care for the glint in Clockwork's eye. "He's only a shade because you let him die in pain. If anybody can relate, surely that would be you?"

"So help me, Clockwork, if you insist that I do this, I will raise this shade as the perfect face of evil."

Clockwork gave a single dry laugh. "Yes, truly, he's an avatar of destruction."

Dan glared first at Clockwork, and then the shade.

It got bored and floated off into the maze of shelves.

* * *

Dan stared intently at the shade – or perhaps it was just 'Danny', now – across the table.

He wanted to believe it was doing this on purpose. At least then it was for a reason, even if the reason was just to annoy Dan. The alternative was that it was just a genuinely awful ghost with the limb control of a toddler.

He could have just about forgiven it if the limbs were still new. But Danny had sprouted a pair of arms almost a month prior. Dan knew this, because it was almost impossible not to notice the passage of time when every noon and midnight rattled him to the core with twelve loud chimes. For the past 59 of those, he'd had arms, 53 with what could be called hands. The fingers had formed 41 noons-and-midnights-ago.

If Danny still couldn't hold a spoon by now, Dan was increasingly convinced he never would.

The shade was pouting, a crinkle in its still largely vacant face. It almost looked more like Danny Phantom than a cloud of smoke when seen out of the corner of the eye, when half-glanced and quickly moved past, but only barely. Dan had learned to recognize its petulant expressions when things didn't work out for it.

Which was always.

Unless what it wanted was to annoy Dan, of course. In that case, everything was going swimmingly.

He rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Must I explain tangibility to you again? How is it that you are able to grasp a door handle, but not a metal spoon?"

"No," it said dumbly.

"Then focus on the feeling, as we have _repeatedly_ discussed," he said pointedly, "and apply it to the spoon as you do the doorknob."

"No." It crossed its arms, still staring at him.

(He had been unsuccessful in teaching it to blink, as well, although Dan wasn't sure it had even formed eyelids yet.)

Dan sighed. "How do you expect to become the most powerful ghost in the universe if you cannot hold a spoon?"

Danny seemed to consider this for a moment. Its 'considering' face was still a lot like all its other expressions at this point, but after many long weeks, its simple emotions had become surprisingly easy to parse by other means.

"Just try one more time."

"...Yes," it agreed. Danny reached a hand down, shoulders bunched up in exertion, and it grasped at the spoon. Dan watched with bated breath as it pulled the utensil out of the bowl, and nearly shouted when it wobbled.

Half the handle slipped through a few fingers, but Danny managed to keep enough of its hand tangible that it dragged the spoon a few inches above the bowl before it clattered out and splashed into the lukewarm cereal.

But he didn't particularly care.

"You did it!" Dan cheered, and he didn't care who knew it.

"Yes!" Danny agreed. He mimicked the elder ghost's fist-pumping motion and nearly slipped back through the chair.

"I see you've made progress at last, Daniel," came the voice from across the room.

The shade pointed at the intruder. "Bad man," it said.

Dan chuckled at Clockwork's obvious displeasure.

Danny seemed to take that as a hint to keep going. "Bad man, bad man, bad man," it chattered.

"It's good to know how you've spent your weeks, I suppose. All worthwhile it seems."

"Isn't it just?" Dan asked. This was, in truth, the most fun he had had in years. "On some topics, he's a remarkably quick study. He's already got you figured out, murderer."

"As ever, a hilariously unjust nickname when coming from you. Or it would be if I cared at all what you thought of me," said Clockwork, clearly caring just a little.

"Ah, but you must care."

"Oh?"

"It's your little game. If you didn't care what I thought about you, I doubt you'd spend so long playing it. You could have picked a thousand other ghosts to play hitman for you."

Clockwork raised an eyebrow.

"But you've endured my presence because you see yourself, and your own crimes, reflected in me," Dan explained, over the background din of Danny's chanting. "You claim you don't like _my_ actions, so you will keep attempting to gain mastery over me in order to feel control over your own self, over your own destiny. But do you know what the terribly ironic thing is?"

"I'm sure I don't really care."

"Any acceptance I might have of your philosophy comes under threat of destruction or eternity. So, reflected or not, your sought-after mastery would be a pale imitation of real self-destination. You're every bit the servant, yourself, just to different masters."

"I'm also sure I have no time for this dialectic. To be direct; why haven't you sought to destroy the young Phantom?"

Dan smirked. "It's simple, really. You clearly didn't want to have the burden of Danny Phantom's shade in this universe, and you tried to use me to solve your problem. You've already demonstrated that you'll do nothing to kill him yourself. Therefore, the best way to exact revenge on you at this moment is to assist Phantom in regaining his form, and ensure he can stick around for a good long time."

He gestured across the table. Danny had managed to successfully hold a spoon long enough to bring a mouthful of cereal to his mouth, but acting seemingly on impulse decided to throw it at Clockwork instead.

Dan bellowed with laughter when the Master of All Time failed to dodge it, the milk and cornflakes running down his robes.

When he had collected himself, he added, "Of course, the fact that I am confounding your expectations is a bonus."

Dan's smile faded when Clockwork suddenly smiled right back. "As a matter of fact, I believe I know exactly what to do with you, after all."


	5. Time After Time

The light rushed up to meet him, and Dan punched the thermos hard enough that it left a dent when it hit the wall.

There were a disturbing number of dents in that wall. But he didn't have time to think about that right now.

"Clockwork!"

He flung the door open.

"Yes?" Clockwork asked mildly, without looking up from his book.

"In case I have not made myself clear enough, I refuse to take part in any more of your sick games!"

He knew the ghost had heard him, and when he didn't stop reading the blasted book, he refused to repeat himself. Finally, Clockwork flipped over the back cover and threw it down on the ottoman ( _Old Yeller, p_ roperty of the Casper High Library) and looked up at Dan with a serious expression.

"Really? No more?"

" _None!_ I refuse to be made your personal hitman! Whatever your reasoning, whatever your twisted logic, I've had it! I'm _not_ going to kill him again."

"That's generous of you."

Oh no, he wouldn't fall for that. " _Generosity_ has nothing to do with it, time master. This has everything to do with _you_ and your absurd plan. I will not dispose of any further Danny Fentons on your behalf."

Another raised eyebrow. "Plan? What plan is that?"

"Bringing me out to the end of the world, blaming me for the child's death, forcing me to cohabitate with his shade, the whole ridiculous charade designed to make me feel remorse for what I did! Well, I'm through! I'm not going to give in to whatever the latest _insane_ installment is."

"To make you feel remorse? Is that what you think I'm doing?"

"As if it still matters, yes."

Clockwork hummed thoughtfully. "What makes you think remorse doesn't matter?"

"They all _died_."

"You mean the people you harmed?"

"I mean all of them! The ones I injured, the ones I spared, the ones I never met. Everyone except you and I. What's the sense of doing any of this if I'm the only one besides you who will know it happened?"

"You'll die too, one day," Clockwork said. "And then nobody apart from myself will remember it."

Dan threw out his hands with an aggressive shaking motion. "Exactly! So what's the point?"

"An excellent question."

"You don't even have an answer, do you? Did you ever have a point, or have you just found yourself playing the same game over and over for so long that it's the only thing you know? Do you have any idea how much suffering you've caused?"

"That's a fair point. I suppose if I keep this up, you'll suffer."

"And I've suffered _enough_ , thank you."

"But then again, maybe some people will suffer from your inaction, too," he added. "You don't know yet."

"Maybe they will, but it's hardly my problem," Dan fired back.

"Of course not. Either they live and die never knowing about you, or you save them but they die in the end anyway. Pointless."

"I'm glad we're in agreement."

"Perfectly." Clockwork nodded. "I won't ask you to kill any more Dannys Fenton."

" _Thank you_."

"However, since you're here anyway, would you be opposed to speaking with one?"

Dan narrowed his eyes distrustfully. "What's your angle?"

"No angle, but I think you might like to talk. It's very early in his timeline. He hasn't even turned on the portal yet."

"You're up to something," Dan said, "aren't you."

"Always. I have many appointments to keep and a scant 12 trillion years in which to keep them."

"I'm not going to kill this one."

Clockwork nodded. "No, of course not. We've discussed how pointless it would be."

"I'm really, really not going to kill him."

"I understand."

He didn't believe that for a second. Not a fraction of a second. Not even an infinitesimal fraction as short as his journey through time had been long. Not even if he were to waste away in a far corner of the Ghost Zone for uncountable infinities and the madness consumed his mind would he possibly believe that Clockwork had, in this moment, been telling him the truth.

"You understand that I won't be coming back after I leave, correct?"

"Absolutely. You're free to go anywhere you choose."

"Fine. Fine, then."

The only thing Dan did trust at this point is that King Lear wasn't mad. Clockwork was up to something, and he would second guess his every impulse until he knew what. Right now, he wanted to stay far, far away from Danny Fenton.

"I'll go speak with the child."

Clockwork smiled, and summoned a portal.

* * *

The birds still chirped, the faraway traffic still murmured, the housepaint still peeled. Concord Street on a sunny August afternoon. Dan ignored it all and floated invisibly through the front door.

The house was silent. Uncharacteristically silent.

Then again, it had been that day, hadn't it? Just him and his friends. Danny, and his friends. But there had been excitement in the air that day. This was far too silent for that.

As he remembered it, anyway.

Dan ran a hand along the wall and made his way into the kitchen; there was still nothing to be heard when he reached the door to the lab.

Out of an abundance of caution, he went intangible and floated down silently.

It was like he remembered it, and very different. The smell of industrial-strength floor cleaner. The air felt slightly humid, as it had before the portal started. And alone, propped up against a counter and struggling to pull on a HAZMAT suit, was Danny Fenton.

Black hair, if that mattered. But no matter what happened with the portal, he wouldn't die at Dan's hands.

"Hello, Daniel."

At first, Dan's core stuttered, as Danny managed to trip over the loose leg of the suit and fell to the floor, but the teen quickly regained his footing and stared at the space where Dan had spoken. He brushed the bangs out of his face and hard, intelligent eyes swept over the lab.

Those eyes were purple. Hopefully, that didn't matter. Not that he cared at all.

"Who said that? I'm warning you, this room is full of ghost-hunting equipment."

"You won't need it." Dan faded into view with a grim expression. "I don't mean you any harm."

Danny's eyes widened. "You're a ghost," he asked.

"Yes," he said. "I am."

Danny smiled. "Whoa! My parents said this portal would lead to ghosts. I didn't expect any to show up before it was turned on."

"You were right not to, none will. I'm cheating."

"Cheating? How?"

This version of Danny was far bolder than Dan had expected, a far cry from last time. It's like he knew no fear. Or at least he did a much better job of hiding it.

"I'm from the future. After this portal is activated."

"So after the portal is activated, you found a way to travel through time, and you decided to come back to this moment?" Danny frowned. "Aren't you worried about causing a paradox?"

"Not especially, no."

"That seems dumb."

He was _not_ going to kill Danny Fenton.

"It's more complicated than that."

The teen scoffed. "I'm not a kid. You can tell me how it works."

He was not going to kill Danny Fenton, even if the kid was more full of himself than Dan remembered.

"Fine, then. A ghost known as The Master of All Time captured me and manipulated the timeline to send me back here to talk to you as penance. He's very powerful, impossibly self-assured, and someday I will kill him."

"Why would talking to me be considered penance?" The teen was entirely too unafraid, considering Dan could hear his own aura crackling at the thought of violence.

He very carefully calmed himself down, settling instead into a comfortable sarcasm. "I had wondered that myself, but I'm starting to understand why."

"If he's the ghost of time, what are you supposed to be?"

"I, Daniel, am the most powerful ghost ever created. In my world, I have spent the last 10 years raining devastation upon the face of the earth. I have obliterated whole cities, pillaged the wealth of nations. None dare stand before me."

"Cool." Danny Fenton was grinning, and it was unnerving.

Dan narrowed his eyes at the child. "It is not 'cool', Daniel. It's a campaign of vengeance."

"Who are you trying to get revenge on?"

" _Everyone_."

"That's really not specific. What did 'everyone' do to you? Can you seriously have a grudge against, like, the whole world at once?"

"Listen here, child," Dan gripped him by the unzipped front of his hazmat suit, pulling him closer. He finally started to squirm a bit. A higher tolerance for fear, perhaps, but nobody's was infinite. "They offend me by existing in peace. Why should they get to keep what I lost? Why should they live in peace and harmony when my friends and family were snuffed out in front of me?"

"Were they seriously that important to you?" Danny managed.

Dan dropped him. " _What?_ "

"I said, were your friends and family really that important to you?" Danny repeated. "They've only ever held me back. Ever since I realized how much, I've been much more productive. I can focus on what matters."

"Then you're a fool. They're the only thing that matters."

Danny scoffed. "I wouldn't expect you to understand."

"I understand more than you could possibly know. I'm you."

"...huh? Like, metaphorically?"

Dan crossed his arms, floating over to the inactive portal. "This portal, the one you were so keen to investigate."

"What about it?"

"In a few minutes, you would have turned it on, as I did. But there was an accident."

"That's why I'm wearing a hazmat suit. But, are you saying you're literally me? We look nothing alike."

Dan re-summoned his illusory transformation. He didn't look back to see how Danny was taking it. "After the accident, I wasn't just Danny Fenton anymore. I became Danny Phantom, the ghost-fighting do-gooder. But the power and responsibility became too much, and just when I needed my friends and family the most... A ghost took them all away from me."

"...are you saying I become the most powerful ghost in the universe?"

Dan wheeled around, staring.

Danny looked intrigued. Far, far too intrigued.

"Yes," Dan said carefully. "But it causes tremendous pain to everyone you care about."

"Maybe I don't care as much as you do."

"Maybe not. But power has a price."

Danny shrugged. "You know what I've gone through at school, right? All my life. Why should I care what happens to people who have never gone out of their way for me?"

"You could become a monster if you aren't careful," Dan warned.

"What, like you?" Danny smiled a smug smile. "Pillaging and obliterating and all that? No offense but it sounds like I probably have better self-control than you do."

"...you don't care much about consequences, do you?" he asked at last.

"I'll manage."

"You don't care what this will do to anyone else."

"Do you?"

Dan stood for a moment, silently regarding the teenager. Then he stepped to one side. Danny rolled his eyes and finished pulling on his hazmat suit.

"And you said all I have to do is turn it on?"

"That's all."

Danny smiled as he approached. "Then I guess I'll see you in the future."

As he walked by, Dan summoned an ectoblast and vaporized Danny Fenton.

Face pulled in a tight grimace, Dan picked up a leftover scrap of an arm and threw it at the on button inside the empty gateway.

The portal fired up, and he walked through.


	6. Prologue

He found Clockwork in his study, once again. Reading, because of course he was.

Wordlessly, Dan took a seat in the armchair opposite Clockwork. He was fully committed to letting the time master make the first move. At least, until he saw the title.

 _7 Habits of Highly Effective People_. Property of the Friendship County Public Library.

"What does that have to do with anything?"

Clockwork looked up over the cover. "What does what have to do with anything?"

"That book. What are you getting at?"

"It can't have escaped your notice that I enjoy reading, can it?"

Dan rolled his eyes. "Yes, but every other book you've picked has been some kind of obtuse foreshadowing. I don't know what this could possibly have to do with me."

Clockwork raised an eyebrow. "Perhaps the real lesson is that not everything is about you, Daniel." He did set the book down, though. "So, you've come back."

"You knew what I was going to do, didn't you?"

"What did you do?"

"Exactly what you planned. I eliminated him."

"Then I suppose I should thank you." Clockwork half-smiled. "You seemed so committed to leaving this one alive."

"He was _awful_ ," Dan complained.

"He was a lot like you," Clockwork countered.

"But he didn't have any reason for being that way."

"You don't know what he went through. How can you be sure?"

Dan scowled. "Are you saying I should have left him alive?"

"Not at all." Clockwork flipped to his elder form, shifting uncomfortably in the seat. "He really was awful. That was just to point out that awful people usually have a reason to end up that way."

"He was squandering everything fate had given him," Dan said, leaning back. "It can't have been reason enough for that."

Clockwork hummed, clearly not fully agreeing, but offering no argument, which Dan could still count as a win. Neither spoke for a moment, although the arcane ticking ensured it wasn't silent.

It grated on his nerves more than silence would have.

"So you've tricked me into being your hitman once more. What's next?"

"Such _resignation_."

"I suppose it simply seems inevitable at this point."

"It's not inevitable, not at all." At Dan's questioning look, Clockwork continued. "You've surprised me. And I have no interest in using you further in that way. I wasn't entirely sure if you would kill this Danny Fenton."

"Now that, I have trouble believing."

"Truly. You have repeatedly defied my expectations. I've come to realize that while you may have Plasmius's powers, you have still retained Phantom's morals, at least to some extent." Clockwork looked at him thoughtfully for a moment. "I had hoped that in this case, you would do what was best. But it was just that; a hope."

"I dislike being regarded as the simple sum of my origins. I am my own entity. I have been for a great many years."

"I will concede that of the manifold Dan Phantoms I have encountered, you certainly are the most unique."

Dan would never admit to the pride he felt at that.

"The question remains. What now?"

"The world is your oyster, as they say, although I might make a recommendation."

"That being?"

"You speak of the young Daniel squandering what he was given."

"Indeed. He was a fool to do so."

"Suppose you were to make a different choice."

"I beg your pardon?" he asked, confused.

Clockwork gestured a hand to the door. "You're missing your friends and family. They, in turn, are now missing a Danny Fenton."

Dan frowned. "I don't foresee any way in which that could work."

"Neither do I. But there's always hope."

"I think you just want me to act as a protector. As Phantom," Dan added. "You promise freedom, but you would see me doing what you refuse to do yourself."

"I, Daniel, am at peace with my role in the universe. You, on the other hand, never have been." Clockwork flashed a fang-filled smile, before adding, "this is your chance at peace, if you choose not to 'squander' it."

"Ah, but as you've already admitted; you've never really met _me_ before," Dan pointed out with an air of triumph. "Ghosts _like_ me, perhaps, but I am not like them."

"I suppose not," Clockwork said. "I _suppose_ that means I'll just have to keep an even closer eye on you."

"As will I, time master."

"It sounds like you've made up your mind."

Dan shrugged, transforming into his teenage form. "Danny Fenton was a fool to give up the life he could have lead. I am no fool."

"Very well, then. I will leave you to it." He stood and summoned a portal, although as Dan approached it, Clockwork said something truly unexpected. "Good luck, Daniel. You may need it."

He stopped in his tracks. "It's strange to hear you speak of uncertainty."

"Yes, indeed." Clockwork's eyes were lit up with what might have been glee. "Exciting, isn't it?"

Dan stepped through into the lab at Fentonworks. He took one breath of cool, dry air. It felt like home.

"Oh, Daniel, before you go—"

The words through the portal had him turn just in time to see a cloud of something unfortunately tangible crash into him. From the floor, he scowled at Clockwork's smug expression on the other side of the closing portal.

"A parting gift, to repay your efforts."

As it snapped out of existence, Dan turned his gaze to see the shade – it was undeniably the shade, although it had sprouted legs now – sitting on the floor staring back at him.

"Hello," it chirped.

Dan sighed. Of course Clockwork wasn't looking to make this easy for him.

"I don't suppose you want to help me hide a body, do you?"

"Yes!" it shouted, fists pumping into the air.

"No, no," Dan said, standing, "a bit less excitement, please." He pulled its arms down to its side.

"Yes," it tried again.

He grinned. "All right, then. Let's get started."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've spent most of the last week posting this on FFN, but I thought it would be silly not to post it here. They just got a bit of a preview (before I worked out some of the grammar issues...)
> 
> That said, if you've made it this far, thank you for coming along for the ride. This was definitely a weird story to write, but I'm glad I wrote it.


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